


Phoradendron Flavescens

by rachhell



Series: south park drabble bomb [7]
Category: South Park
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Christmas Fluff, Cupid Me causing chaos as usual, F/M, Holidays, Implied Stendy, Mistletoe, Non-denominational winter celebrations, South Park Drabble Bomb, gratuitous mariah carey, het? on MY ao3?, implied Bunny, implied Creek, it's more likely than you think, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 13:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12936600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachhell/pseuds/rachhell
Summary: During South Park Elementary's celebration of the multi-denominational, multi-religion winter holidays, PC Principal goes on a crusade to ban the highly problematic practice of kissing under the mistletoe from the school. Cupid Me has other ideas.Written for the December 2017 South Park Drabble bomb, day five - mistletoe.





	Phoradendron Flavescens

“Okay, everybody, listen up.” The amplified voice of PC Principal talking too close into the microphone filled the school gymnasium as the stragglers of Mrs. Nelson’s fourth grade class, late to the assembly, found their seats. “It has come to my attention that some of you think it’s acceptable to hang mistletoe around our school. Now I don’t need to remind you - _Kenny and Butters, quit your fuckin’ yapping!”_

The two boys had just settled into their seat and were tittering and whispering amongst themselves, much to the apparent delight of Eric Cartman, who watched them from the bleacher directly behind them, with a beaming grin stretched across his face. Butters’ eyebrows shot up in surprise upon PC Principal’s shout; he looked down at his feet in shifty embarrassment, but Kenny simply continued laughing into his hood.

PC Principal gripped the microphone, sending a rippling flex through his bicep. “Okay, as I was _saying_ . I don’t need to remind you that, during this year’s non-denominational winter celebrations, you’re welcome to decorate your classrooms and hallways in the culturally appropriate manner of your choosing, determined by class vote. But mistletoe is an unacceptable tradition? Because it’s not founded in consent? So it’s not something that I, as your principal, welcome at South Park Elementary.” He turned on the projector, which displayed a picture of a lush, green ball of mistletoe dotted with white berries, and a gold ribbon tied around the top. It was marked with a circle and slash, like a no smoking sign. “Traditionally, mistletoe is rooted in Pagan rituals of fertility and prosperity.” He flipped to the second slide of his Powerpoint presentation. “At South Park Elementary, we respect our Pagan students, and their traditions. However… _Butters! Kenny! What did I say?”_

“Oh jeez.” Butters shifted in his seat, while Kenny giggled and muttered a string of muffled swear words to PC Principal.

“And that’s two weeks detention for you, Mr. McCormick. Anyway. Beginning in eighteenth-century England,” he flipped to a slide of dancing couples decked out in fancy, olden-style dresses and tuxedos, “The tradition began to morph into what we see today. Any woman standing under a ball of mistletoe was not allowed to refuse a kiss.  And, dude, that just isn’t appropriate, okay? Women, as well as men and non-binary identifying individuals are free to choose whether or not they can be kissed.”

The students and teachers alike were beginning to grow restless. Stan and Kyle exchanged an eye-roll, after which Kyle jabbed his friend in the side and nodded his head toward Wendy Testaburger, who was situated next to Craig and Tweek. Stan responded with a jab of his own, and a nervous, queasy-looking expression. Wendy, of course, didn’t notice, especially since Tweek was shaking his leg up and down so quickly, from either boredom, nerves, or both, that it was starting to cause their entire bleacher to vibrate. Counselor Mackey was shamelessly reading the news on his phone, and Mrs. Nelson’s eyes were beginning to glaze over, as if she was about to drift into a nap.

The only people who seemed to give any regard to the principal’s speech were Vice Principal Strong Woman, who was watching him in rapt attention, a small smile upon her lips, and Eric Cartman. Cartman’s smile was growing wider and increasingly mischievous. As PC Principal wrapped up his rant, displaying the last slide (a drawing of multicultural children in different little holiday outfits, holding hands and smiling, with MISTLETOE DOES NOT EQUAL CONSENT emblazoned upon the top of the drawing in 90s-style WordArt), little did anybody know that somebody was whispering in Cartman’s ear, plotting.... someone that they could neither see, nor hear.

"In conclusion, anybody caught hanging mistletoe on the premises of our school or kissing under the mistletoe will receive at least two weeks' detention. Happy Holidays." PC Principal dropped the microphone, and strutted out of the gymnasium doors.

* * *

 The teacher’s lounge that lunch period was peaceful and quiet. Mr. Adler and Mr. Mackey were on lunch duty that day and absent from the room, and while Mrs. Nelson and several other staff members chatted amongst themselves around the large table in the center, Vice Principal Strong Woman busied herself at the coffee maker, and PC Principal relaxed in a folding chair in the corner adjacent to the kitchenette, as he kept his forearm in peak condition with his grip strengthener.

“That was a very interesting presentation. Did you know that mistletoe is a parasitic plant?” Strong Woman asked as she finished pouring water into the coffee maker. “Well. It’s a partial parasite. It typically grows on trees, and its roots penetrate the trunk to suck nutrients from the tree.” A slight blush blossomed across her cheeks, and she deliberately smoothed out her skirt and avoided the eyes of her coworker. “But, it is able to grow on its own, as well, in shrubs. The mistletoe you see around this time of year is actually native to North America, but there are many varieties of the plant.”

“No, I did not know that,” replied PC Principal. “You are a very intelligent person, Strong Woman.” He cringed, internally - he didn’t mean to imply that she was intelligent _for a woman_ , but feared that was how it came out; however, when she sat on the folding chair next to his with a smile, he knew that she took it as he’d intended.

“Thank you. My emphasis in undergrad was science education, particularly life science. I know a fair amount about plants, but I wasn’t aware of the history of mistletoe, and its relation to consent. I appreciate your knowledge as well.” She looked around furtively to ensure no other staff members were listening, and lowered her voice. “Speaking of plants, I have a lovely winter window garden at my loft, if you would like to see it sometime.”

Was the staff radio playing Mariah Carey? Nobody else seemed to notice the opening xylophone of _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ except PC Principal. _Oh, shit, bro. It’s happening again,_ he thought as he quickened the speed of his grip exercises. “Uh.” He cleared his throat, and lowered his voice in kind. “Sure. That would be great. Maybe I could make you dinner? Or we could make dinner together.”

In response, her face blossomed into a radiant smile, and she lowered her head in a near-imperceptible nod. “Would you like some coffee?”

“If you are already pouring _yourself_ coffee, I will take some, yes,” he replied. _Oh, the lights are shining, so brightly everywhere,_ sang Mariah into his ears.

Neither vice principal nor principal were aware of the overweight, naked cherub flitting about their heads, giggling and peeing, just a little bit, into PC Principal's mouth. What they did notice, however, was the small plant that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, on the ceiling in the opposite corner of the lounge. With a sudden record scratch, Mariah ceased her crooning. 

"Okay, what the  _fuck_ is that? Which one of you put that up there?" He gripped his strengthener in one hand, his PC Delta mug shaking in the other. "I'm interviewing every last  _one_ of you! This is completely inappropriate!"

* * *

Tweek's grunts and cries echoed throughout the hallway. "Craig! This is,  _nnngh,_ too much pressure!" With a yank of his hair, he scampered down the hall. The sprig of mistletoe on his locker swung back and forth, slightly, supported by a sparkling green ribbon.

"Tweek! Wait! I'm really sorry, I should've asked you first!" Craig ran after his boyfriend, who'd darted into the boy's bathroom with a frantic screech. "Tweek! Wait!" A crowd had formed by Tweek's locker and, as PC Principal swaggered down the hallway toward the scene of the spectacle, it quickly dispersed. The students went out of their way to appear busy and refrain from catching the angry bro's eyes.

"Craig Tucker, get your ass back here!" PC Principal shouted as he, too, disappeared into the bathroom. "What did I tell you about mistletoe and  _consent!"_

Like the rest of the students in the hall, Wendy's eyes were wide with worry, but a smile graced her face. She was standing next to Stan, with the mistletoe a mere five feet away, and her heart was thumping against her chest. Maybe this would be her chance. "Looks like they're in for it," she chirped.

"Nah, they won't get in trouble. Craig and Tweek can get away with everything 'cause they're gay," he said, slamming his locker shut. "PC Principal will probably just let 'em off with another lecture. I'd still hate to be them. I don't know what Craig was thinking, just kissing him like that in front of everyone."

"Well, Stan... the principal's not out here now," Wendy said shyly, "And he forgot to take down the mistletoe. What'dya say?"

The trash can in the corner barely hid Cartman's obese body, but between another public argument of Tweek and Craig, PC Principal's rage, and Wendy's shrill cry after being covered in Stan's vomit, nobody noticed him anyway, nor the fact that he was talking to himself.

" _Ooooh,_ it's working! That's the fifth one today!" said Cupid Me, flying around Cartman's head. "Maybe  _we_ should go under that mistletoe, big boy." Cupid Me was sporting a tiny Santa hat, and his bow and arrow were adorned with glittering garland.

Cartman's brows contracted over his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you, Cupid Me? I'm not  _gay!"_

"But  _Eric!"_ The cherub frowned. "I thought we had something! What if I pee in your mouth a little?" He batted his long-lashed eyes at Cartman.

" _God damn it,_ Cupid Me, don't pee in my fuckin' mouth!"

Cupid Me frowned. "Well... if I can't pee in your mouth, I'm gonna make something neat happen! You in, sexy beast?"

"You  _know_ I'm in, Cupid Me." Cartman's face sported an evil grin. He and Cupid Me were going to go directly to the source of this mistletoe ban, and end it right there.

* * *

 They were trying to figure out the source of the problem. PC Principal and Vice Principal Strong Woman were hunched over the same side of her desk, a list of students with accompanying school pictures spread out upon the surface. "Eric Cartman," said Strong Woman decisively. "We both  _know_ it's Eric Cartman. Nobody else cares enough to execute such a stupid prank."

"I dunno, Strong Woman," said PC Principal, "N-not to discount your theory! You are an intelligent and insightful person. But, Butters Stotch and Kenny McCormick certainly did their share of giggling during my presentation. And it could be Heidi Turner. She's been acting out a lot lately."

"It's a shame, she used to be such a good student. I examined her transcript a few days ago." Strong Woman smiled at him, and Mariah's vocal riffs were stronger than ever. Her song rang into his ear, accompanied by jingle bells, as Strong Woman scooted closer to him. His upper lip curled into a gummy smile as she accidentally-on-purpose nudged his foot with her own. The smell of her inoffensive, light floral perfume was intoxicating, the way her cardigan was unbuttoned _did_ things to him, and PC Principal couldn't help but nudge her back.

 _I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know_ , echoed in his head. Their nudging progressed; their knees knocked against each other under the desk. The smell of pine and winter inexplicably joined that of her perfume.

“Hey, look,” Strong Woman’s eyes were fixed upon the ceiling, where a ball of mistletoe hung from a hook that normally held Vice Principal Strong Woman’s spider plant. Unlike the small sprigs that decorated the hallways, this particular mistletoe was full and lush, much like the picture from the slideshow. A velvet, red ribbon cascaded down the sides in artful curls. _“_ _Phoradendron flavescens.”_

PC Principal was caught in a moment of confusion, sprinkled with rage toward whoever put the offending plant in her office. The curiosity toward what the highly intelligent woman in front of him just said, however, won out over the anger threatening to shake through him. _Phoradendron flavescens?_ “Huh?”

Strong Woman’s face was flushed, and she darted her gaze from the mistletoe, to PC Principal’s sunglasses-hidden eyes, to the ground. “The scientific name for mistletoe.” He couldn't keep his eyes off her lips, her work-appropriate makeup, her sensible, yet flattering clothing.

"Oh," he breathed. "It's across the room."

"Yes," replied Strong Woman, "Across the room. We aren't underneath it." Her well-manicured, soft hand was upon his. "If we were to kiss, would it count?"

 _Make my wish come true!_ sang Mariah, as Strong Woman reached for his sunglasses and pulled them off his face. "I don't think so. As you said, we aren't underneath the mistletoe. We are near the mistletoe." He swallowed. "If we can both confirm our full consent, I think it would be permissible."

Strong Woman beamed. "Well, I consent to kissing you near the mistletoe," she said, looking into his eyes. "May I kiss you?"

PC Principal's beady eyes shone bright with excitement.  _All I want for Christmas...._

"Yes, I consent to us kissing near the mistletoe."

 _Is you._ Their lips met, chastely at first, until Strong Woman wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, her fingers stroking the base of his gelled hair, and deepened the kiss.

They were suddenly interrupted by a loud crash outside her office window. With another record scratch of Mariah Carey's Christmas hit, they parted. Upon investigating, a stepladder, an unusually small bow and arrow, and a bag of Cheesy Poofs lay on the snowy ground. Both noticed a flash of red and yellow round the corner. VP Strong Woman was correct.

* * *

 

He was sweating as he ran down the hall, his breath coming in heaving, breathy puffs. His tiny companion was forced to leave his weapons behind, and it was undeniable - they'd been caught.

“ERIC CARTMAN. Eric Cartman to the principal’s office,  _ now,"  _ sounded over the loudspeaker.

Cupid Me giggled in Cartman’s ear, and let off a shrill  _ oooooh _ . “Looks like somebody’s in trouble!”

“ _ Ay!  _ Shut up, Cupid Me.” With his jaw set, trying to ignore the small, naked version of himself that flitted around his head, he shuffled down the hallway, ready for the month of detention that was sure to come. They’d never believe him that it was Cupid Me all along.

"Maybe we could take a little detour,  _ayyy?"_ Cupid Me flew toward the locker room, and wiggled his brows at Cartman. In his hand was a small bundle of mistletoe.

Cartman heaved a sigh. "Fine, Cupid Me, but this is the  _last_ time this is happening, you understand?" He was facing detention, and there was no way out - he may as well just let it happen, for old time's sake. After all, it was Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> There you go - proof that I can write innocent, and happy, things!


End file.
